


And We'll Drink Hot Chocolate Under The Stars

by CherryPaintedBlackbirds



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Fluff, Gay, Love, M/M, Romance, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryPaintedBlackbirds/pseuds/CherryPaintedBlackbirds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis doesn't expect a curly boy who wants to feel like a cat.<br/>Harry doesn't expect a blue eyed boy who wants to make him feel better.<br/>But it's snowing and there's iced chocolate and Louis finds Harry so utterly beautiful with flowers in his hair and a blush on his porcelain cheeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, okay so, this is my first AO3 fanfic so. I hope you like it I guess? .w. Oh and, please ignore the summary it's horrible, and I couldn't think of a good title. :( xx  
> Well, here we go c:

The thing is, it's not working. That thing that Louis is trying to do, you know? That thing where he forgets all about green, green eyes and red lips and dimples and skinny jeans - that could possibly even be jeggings they're so tight. /Jeggings/.

Sometimes Louis wonders exactly what he did in life to get this. The universe hates him and he just wants to know why. He surely didn't do anything bad enough to get this. This chocolate haired curly boy with possibly the most beautiful face in the world, but Louis doesn't even have a name to put to it. 

Jesus.

Louis sighs heavily and kicks at the kerb, glowering sullenly at the ground as if it had offended him. Maybe it had. Maybe it had said something rude to him and was now going to swallow him up and try to start a fight with him. He'd quite like that. Maybe then he'd forget about the stranger, if he could rip out the pavement's nose ring.

Is Louis going mad?

Yes, he thinks. He is.

Because, see, ever since that stupid boy walked in, he's been a mess. Ever since he turned up the collar on his black pea coat like fucking Sherlock Holmes and shook out that mass of curls, flashing his emerald irises and amazing cheekbones, he's been a mess. God. He even asked for an iced hot chocolate with extra cream on it. It was snowing. He asked for an iced hot chocolate with extra cream just because he wanted to /feel like a cat/.

He told Louis this, cheeks flushed pink and eyes bright with the cold. He told Louis this and then laughed at himself, all over self deprecating. And his laugh, good god, his laugh was like music and Louis hated to be sappy (which was stupid because, he always was. It was just one of his things) but in this case it was certainly necessary. Even Zayn and Liam would've agreed. Probably.

Louis was now walking to the cafe again, seeing as, y'know, it was his job. He currently had a love-hate relationship with it. Love because, well, it was the cafe. It was cozy and warm and there was coffee and cake. But then, right now there was hate because it had thrown an angel in his face and then torn it away from him without even giving a name. 

Louis heaves a great sigh and pushes the cafe doors open. They jingle lightly, and there's no one at the cafe yet because, it's seven in the morning. He should be really tired, seeing as he stayed up most the night thinking about curls. And he kind of is, really, but he doesn't feel it. He is all filled up with frustration and sadness because, stupid green eyed boy. 

He jumps a mile when someone exclaims "Louis!" and a head pops up from under the counter. A man with ginger hair and an innocent smile grins at him. 

"Oh, hey, Ed. Didn't know anyone else would be here yet," Louis breaths, closing the doors behind him and breathing in the smell of the cafe - cinnamon and apple and cream and chocolate. He definitely loves this place more than he hates it. 

"Just, woke up early and had nothing to do. Decided to come here, y'know?" 

Louis nods, wanders up to the counter and stashes his jacket in the cupboard under it, where Ed is sitting and writing. 

"Song or novel?"

"Song," Ed nods. "I've been finding it easier than, like, other stuff." He waves and then caps his pen, putting his notepad in his back pocket. Louis just stares down at the blueberry cheesecake, thinking about how maybe if he'd just slipped his phone number under the iced hot chocolate... Maybe the curly boy would've phoned him last night... maybe they'd have a date tonight.

Except, curly stranger was way out of his league.

"Louis? Lou!" Ed says sharply, and Louis realises he's gripping the counter so hard his knuckles are white.

"Er- sorry. D-dazed off," he chuckles awkwardly, and Ed just nods again. 

"I'm going out into the back room for a bit. See you." Then the older man leaves and Louis his left alone with his thoughts, and, shit, god, fuck, he just wants a green eyed boy to walk through the door.

A bell jingles and his head shoots up - but it's just some fucking couple around their twenties, giggling at each other and smiling wide when they see Louis.

"Hey, is this place open?" The woman asks. She's cheerful and joyous. That is so not normal for a Tuesday morning. It's seven am, for god's sake. 

"Yeah, yeah, just opened," Louis sighs, beckoning for them to come in. The couple walk in, swinging their arms and flopping all over each other like they're in some god awful love movie, Jesus Christ.

So maybe Louis' a little grumpy and is swearing rather excessively. He's got reason to be... kind of...

"Uh so, like, what do you want?" Louis asks as they approach, hanging onto each other.

"One tall white frappucino please and tea with milk and sugar!" The woman burbles, bright as the sun and so not in an amazing curly boy radiant way. Maybe she's more... bright like a television screen. Or something. 

Louis pretends he's decent at writing. Maybe he's not.

"Yeah alright, coming up."

"Lovely!" The man exclaims and Louis would like to punch him in the gut. Honestly. Just fucking punch him.

He wasn't like this before the curls. 

(Maybe just a little bit.)

The couple prance off to their table by the window and Louis gets the mugs out. He slams them so hard on the counter they nearly smash, but he just gets out the milk. He wishes Ed would come out so he could vent. You can't really vent inside your head, it doesn't quite work as effectively. 

As he makes the drinks his mind is buzzing with green green green eyes and red red red lips and that little cream moustache and sweet sweet sweet kittens because the curly boy wanted to feel like a cat.

He finishes the drinks and stalks out from behind the counter, skulking over to the couple's table. He sets the drinks down considerably softer than before, not wanting to be left with two smashed handles and hot beverages all over the three of them. The woman grins a big lipsticky grin and the man grins a big toothy grin and Louis turns around without a word to them.

Life sucks.

He sighs, fishing out his phone, and clicking 'new message'. He addresses it to both Liam and Zayn, despite the fact they'll probably be together, and types in "I'M DYING THIS SUCKS THERE'S A HAPPIER-THAN-NECESSARY COUPLE IN THE CORNER AND ED'S JUST WRITING IN THE BACK ROOM SORROW PAIN HELP GUYS PLEASE" he sends it passive-aggressively, and glowers at the screen for four minutes and thirty six seconds before his phone tweets with a message, twice.

Zayn: "Is this about the fit stranger? It is isn't it? Babe you need to get laid. xx"

Liam: "You've got to adres the fact that u r wallowing bc you love the cafe and you've never been tht botherd about couples (e.g. me and Zayn) before yesterday when u saw the boy. To be honest ur way to cought up with him because u talked to him for like 15 minutes before he left and u don't know each others names. He might come back anyway so stop bing sad and be normal Lou (which is usualy quite bitchy but oh wel)"

Louis sighs, but there's a stupid smile on his face. He sends two seperate messages this time, hoping this won't continue for a while because having two seperate texting conversations about the same subject is hard work.

To Zayn: "I've been laid recently! Just because Liam isn't a good ride you don't have to take it out on me. xx"  
Liam: "You need to go to English lessons, honestly. And IF YOU SAW HIM YOU'D UNDERSTAND HE'S FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. AND ADORABLE. xx"

It's been one minute before his phone rings. He answers, smirking when he sees Zayn's number. "Hey babe," he snickers.

"Right, first off, Liam is a great rid-"

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Gives good head too actually. In fact I could tell you all about the fun we have in the bedroom. And the bathroom. And the living room. And the kitchen, god. Right, so I was sitting on the counter and he kneeled down and-"

"Zayn I'm at work you dick!" Louis exclaims in a hushed voice, just as he hears Liam shushing him in the background.

"Oh sorry, guess I shouldn't be getting you hard."

"You're such a douche, you're meant to be making me feel better."

"The fit stranger with pretty green eyes could come back."

"Why?! Why would he come back here? He's probably out with friends. Or his boyfriend. Or maybe he's straight," Louis groans. "I mean, I don't even know if he's gay. Maybe he thinks I'm gross. He's taken anyway. Probably. He's too beautiful and hot and sweet to not have a boyfriend. I mean, girlfriend proba-"

"Louis, calm down. Calm down and just breathe for a moment," Zayn says quietly. Louis breathes. "If he doesn't come back, move on. It's not the end of the world, it was fifteen minutes with a hot gu-"

"He wasn't just hot! He was everyth-"

"Let me speak, Jesus, Tomlinson! If he doesn't come back, move on. If he's straight, move on or win him over. If he is taken, win him over. If he comes back and is gay and single, make a fucking move, yeah? Got it?"

"Got it," Louis huffs. The bell jingles and Louis sighs, not looking up. "Got customers, bye Zaynie."

"Bye Lou. Love you!" Zayn giggles. Louis hangs up, smiling fondly and putting his phone away. He looks u-

Oh.

Oh good lord. 

The curly boy is standing there, hovering by the door and swallowing nervously. He's straightening his knitted light red jumper and are those sweater paws?! Yes. That's the answer. And those are most definitely even skinnier jeans and he looks so awkwardly anxious. He's got a bad posture, hunched over by the door but Louis finds that adorable. His malachite green eyes are flicking from his white converse to the counter and back again.

It's a cafe. You should not be nervous in a cafe. 

"Er- you can... the cafe's, um, open," Louis adds helpfully, leaning against the counter with his hands holding the sides. "Like. You can come in?" 

Curly Boy smiles up at him and he looks relieved. "Okay," he says quietly, padding into the warmth of the counter. "Uh. Hi."

"Hi," Louis bites his lip so he won't smile stupidly. "You come to feel like a cat again?" Curly Boy looks surprised, big green eyes widening. He grips onto his sleeves with the tiny bit of his long fingers poking out.

"You remember me?"

"What, am I really that old? I don't have dementia," he chuckles.

"Yeah, but... like, I'm just a boy. And, yeah, actually, can I have the same as last time?" Curly Boy asks uncertainly, and Louis nods, stepping away from the counter just as Curly Boy sits down in front of it. He sets about making the iced hot chocolate in silence, and the babbling coming from the couple's corner is nothing to him because Curly Boy is here. Louis likes Curly Boy.

Louis finishes the drink and returns to the counter, where the stranger had been watching him in silence. He set down the tall glass, and maybe Louis gave him a bit extra cream and a few chocolate sprinkles on the top and a lot of chocolate sauce that shouldn't even be there - but who's going to find out? It's worth it to see Curly's face light up like that. 

"Here you go Curly," Louis says, smiling and plopping a straw into the tall glass. Curly Boy looks up. 

"Curly?"

"Um, yeah. I-I've been calling you Curly Boy inside my mind because I don't know your name."

"Oh. Harry," Harry grins, and he's got such an exaggerated cupid's bow it hurts. Then he takes a sip of the iced chocolate, smiling immediately when he tastes it. Louis just chuckles.

"I'm Louis," Louis tells him, sitting down and he's very glad that business has been slow. Then again, he only opened the cafe ten minutes ago. "And I shall have to call you Potter now." Harry rolls his eyes.

"Very original," he groans dryly, smirking and licking the cream off his drink. Yes, he licks the cream off his drink and Louis shifts awkwardly. He has a long pink tongue and his cheeks hollow and how?! He's licking cream; your cheeks don't hollow when you lick things!  
Well, Harry's do. 

"I'll call you Walsh."

"It's not even spelt like that!"  
"Oh, are you a silent "s" kind of Louis?"

"Yes," Louis says sharply, feeling offended by Harry's tone (but not really because Harry's smiling at him). 

"Don't know any of them," Harry pouts, and he looks like an infant. "I guess I'll just have to call you Iced Chocolate Provider."

"Or just Louis?"

"Perhaps."

Louis giggles (oh god he's giggling again that's never a good sign) and hops off his seat to fetch a glass of water. It's only from that angle that he sees it - the flower crown perched on the crown of Harry's head. He had been too absorbed in Harry's face to notice it, but god, he's wearing it. Like a daisy chain made out of pink and white and red flowers, placed on top of Harry's dark brown curls.  
He splutters, and Harry looks up at him.

"Er- okay?" He asks uncertainly. 

"Are you- is that- a flower crown?! Honestly?!" Louis laughs, and Harry blushes deeply and he looks down at his too big hands, folded on his lap. He looks genuinely sad, and Louis immediately feels a wave of guilt. "I mean- sorry it- I don't mean it's, like, bad, it just surprised me, is all," he quickly ammends, biting his lip. He sits down again and- "Hey, are those... tears?" Louis's surprised he's so sensitive, and that he's tearing up from Louis's statement - a near stranger. Then again, he's so innocent and despite the fact he's so tall and gangly, he's quite childish and adorable (or at least, he had been in the twenty minutes that Louis had known him). "I didn't mean it. Hey, look at me." Louis puts his index finger under Harry's chin and forces him to look up, biting his lip when he sees the tear tracks on his pale cheeks. He wipes them away and Harry goes scarlet.

"Sorry," he breathes, sniffing and tearing his head away from Louis' finger. "I just- it's. I mean. At school, you know, I got bullied a lot. And at university they were even worse so I had to drop out and even now in the sweetshop I work in everyone always- I mean- they throw stuff at me and- I'm sorry, ignore me." Harry sniffs and more tears flow down his face. Louis feels his stomach constrict and he quickly grabs a napkin, giving it to Harry. He smiles gratefully and wipes his face. "Sorry," he repeats.

"No, I'm sorry. I only laughed because I've never seen anyone but my little sister wear flower crowns and it took me by surprise. It's sweet on you though, I like it. Do you always wear one?"

"Yeah, but, always different flowers." Harry nods, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Suits you," Louis smiles widely at him and Harry blushes again, giggling shyly. "But like... if everyone bullies you for them, then why do you wear them?"

"They don't just bully me for the flowers. I'm weird as shit even without them and I can't fight and I'm gay." Harry smiled softly and Louis feels both incredibly sad and incredibly ecstatic at the same time. It's kind of hard to keep his face sympathetic when internally his heart's dancing. 

"That's... oh. I'm sorry, for that. Harry." Louis sighs and takes his hand without thinking. Fortunately, Harry just squeezes it and nods.  
"You don't have to be sorry."

"I feel sorry though. I'm gay too, but I never actually came out so... I, like, respect you. For that. I mean, my friends and family know but no one else," Louis explains, and Harry nods again, leaning down to sip from his straw. While Harry's distracted, Louis pulls out his phone and clicks Zayn and Liam. 

'GUYS GUYS GUYS!! HIS NAME IS HARRY I'M HOLDING HIS HAND HE DOESN'T HAVE MANY FRIENDS SO PROBABLY ISN'T TAKEN SHIT SHIT SHIT HE'S GAY HE'S WEARING FLOWERS AND HE'S SENSITIVE?!?!?!?!' He sends, and it's nowhere near the euphoria he feels .

Zayn: 'I'm assuming Curly's there? I hate people who say I told you so, but, Lou, I told you so. Glad you're happy though haha. xx'

Liam: 'Yay :D Honestly tho stop txting in caps xx Hope u get with him, it'll be good for u, love u Lou.'

Louis smiles down at his phone, at his friends, and Harry looks at him. "Boyfriend?" He asks, and Louis chuckles.

"Nah, nah I'm single. Just my friends," he answers, getting up again because he realises he hadn't fetched his water. While he's getting a glass, he notices that the couple left, and he figures Ed must still be writing. He wonders if this means he has high muse or just can't write a single word.

"Ah, right. You seem like you'd have friends," Harry smiles sadly and Louis' heart drops into his stomach. He sighs heavily.

"You don't- you don't have any?" Louis frowns.

"Eh, no."

"Liar!" Louis grins. "I'm your friend you idiot."

"Y-you are?" Harry beams, and he looks so genuinely happy Louis nearly cries.

"Of course," Louis laughs.

"You got yourself a boyfriend mate?" Louis jumps a mile and turns to see Ed standing behind him, grinning with a notepad in his pocket and pen ink on his fingers. He shoots daggers at Ed. Ed is currently not on his good list. Ed is on his bad list. Bad. List.

"Shut up!" He whines as Harry quickly lets go of his fingers. 

"Shouldn't you be at work mate, not flirting with the customers?" Ed snickers and Louis curses under his breath.

"Oh, yeah, wow, we have so many people I need to serve." At that exact moment, the bell jingles and a group of four, not including the two kids they're bearing, come in. Louis groans and Ed laughs, ruffling Louis' hair. 

Harry looks apologetically at Louis. "I should go..." He says quietly, and before Louis can protest he's rushing out of the cafe. Louis turns pointedly away from Ed and looks at the oncoming customers.

Edward Christopher Sheeran will die.  
~  
It's five in the evening and Louis's about to go home, when he sees something white flapping on the counter, stuck underneath the cash register.

'022-384-2110 Harry :) xx'

Louis nearly cries with happiness.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I couldn't update for so long (I don't think anyone minded, ahah xx). Something happened to my sister and so I couldn't really write anything.

Louis is being a really stupid person right now, because in one hand he holds his phone and in the other, a smudged, inky number. He is sitting cross legged on his bed, four fluffy blankets bundled up beside him, one draped around his shoulders. It's seven thirty now; a whole two and a half hours since he returned home with the slip of paper crumpled up in his small hand.  
And right now, he is quite literally trembling, so hard that he has to close his eyes and take several deep breaths to calm himself down. He's so unnecassarily terrified about phoning up Harry. Honestly, he shouldn't be, because Harry is the one who actually gave him his number. It's just really hard though, because it's been a year since he had a relationship, or anything even remotely sexual or romantic. That's probably really sad of him, but honestly since last time he's been so nervous to put his heart forth again. And one night stands, he just can't /do/ them. So now he has no idea what on earth he's going to say when he finally phones up Harry.  
Maybe he should start with the fact that he's incredibly apologetic for making him wait two and a half hours.  
Suddenly Louis realises how much it would suck to just be waiting for two and a half hours for someone to call you. He pictures Harry, anxiously casting glances over at his phone, and feels really guilty. Then he remembers that Harry wouldn't be like that with someone as plain as Louis. He can't even wrap his mind around the fact that Harry - /Harry/ - left him his number. He was such an interesting, adorable, funny, pretty, sweet boy who wore flowers in his chocolate brown curls. Louis just served him iced chocolate and didn't call him a freak for wearing flowers.  
Come on, Louis. Do it.  
Louis selected the call button and punched in Harry's number, taking a deep breath.  
It had barely been one ring before there was a slow, sweet and heavily layered with anxiousness voice, "hello?"  
"Harry!" Louis beams immediately, dropping the smudgy number into his lap and falling onto his back with a soft thud.  
"Louis!" Harry echoes with a soft giggle at the end. It makes Louis's heart melt, in the sweetest way possible. Like when you put chocolate in the microwave and it goes all gooey. "I was wondering if you were even gonna call, you meanie! I never would've been able to show my face in that coffee shop again. All because of you!" Louis feels guilty immediately, for making him wait.  
"Noo, then you'd never be able to feel like a cat again!"  
"It's lucky you ended up calling then."  
"Lucky," Louis agrees, nodding even though Harry can't see him. "I am nodding."  
"That's good to know. I just had to have your body language described to me, or I'd be lost."  
"You're an idiot."  
"Don't tell me that or I'll chuck flowers in your face."  
"How many flowers do you have?"  
"Enough."  
"For what?"  
"World domination."  
"Prove it."  
"Okay then, come to mine," Harry replies easily, and then pauses. "I-I mean. That... you don't have to, I mean, we barely know each other," he begins stammering, before Louis cuts him off.  
"Of course I'll come, you noodle."  
"Only you would use delicious foods as an insult. I live on 23 Rainbow Avenue."  
"That's like, the gayest road name," Louis chuckles, standing up.  
"I wear flowers, where else would I live?"  
"Valid point. Well, I'm hanging up now."  
"Don't leave me!" Harry whimpers teasingly.  
"I'll be there in twenty minutes, Potter."  
"Fuck y-" Louis hangs up before he can finish, chuckling softly. Then he puts his phone by Harry's number, going over to his long mirror. His hair is still damp from the shower he'd had previously (simply to delay ringing Harry up) and he's dressed in an old grey t-shirt, with maroon, knee length sweatpants. He /needs/ to get changed.  
Sighing, he goes over to his cupboard and pulls out his newest black skinny jeans, along with a tight black t-shirt and a blue knitted sweater with stripes. His hair is an absolute /mess/, so he just grabs his navy beanie and carefully fits it on his head so that his fringe pokes out. Hopefully he looks alright. Normally, he kind of throws on whatever, because he knows he'll never look as gorgeous as Zayn or Liam. But right now, it matters the world because this time it is Harry he's trying to impress.  
When he finally finishes staring stupidly in the mirror, he slips his phone into his pocket, and (after a moment's hesitation), Harry phone number too. Just because it makes him feel warm.  
Louis runs out of his front door, and down the steps, getting hurriedly into his car. He sets up the GPS on his phone because god knows where "Rainbow Avenue" is.  
It turns out to be about thirty minutes before he reaches Harry's flat, after a lot of cursing and death threats towards his phone, but he gets there. He gets there and that's what matters. He rushes to the door, knocking on it because in his anxiousness, he fails to notice the doorbell.  
Harry opens the door.  
"God, Lou, you're late for /everything/," is the first thing he says, but he's chuckling, and Louis feels relieved.  
"To be honest, I had no idea where this place was," he replies, feeling a massive warmth spread through his body. He studies Harry's outfit. He's wearing his signature skinny jeans, grey this time, and a blue denim short sleeved top with a black t-shirt underneath. His flower crown consists of roses this time, with a few scattered lilies. The red of the roses sticks out amongst his dark brown curls, constrasting nicely with the white flowers. However, Louis's gaze doesn't linger on them for long, because - Harry's wearing /glasses/. Not sunglasses, actual glassses, and Louis thinks he's the most adorable dork he'd ever fucking seen.  
"I guessed," Harry chuckles. "Come in, then." He steps back a few paces and to the side, leaving room for Louis to enter the flat. It smells like sugar and flowers and - cinnamon, like the cafe. He hasn't even seen anything, but Louis likes it immediately.  
Harry shuts the door behind them, and then takes Louis's hand after a nervous pause. It sends a shiver through both of them, and Louis feels even warmer than before.  
"I'll show you around, if you want." He leads Louis down the short hall, and Louis's eyes flicker over the pictures he has on the walls. There's a dark haired curly woman, who looks just like Harry only female. She's standing with another girl, who looks almost identical. She's younger though, so probably Harry's sister. There are a few more of them, and one with his whole family. The man who Louis thinks must be his dad looks /nothing/ like Harry, but he's smiling brightly and he looks like he radiates the same kindness. As well as his family, there's a picture of a black and white cat, who has a posh look on his face and is in the middle of licking his paw.  
"Is that your cat?" Louis asks, and Harry pauses, looking back at the pictures.  
"Yep, Dusty. Well, he's my mum's cat now, seeing as I've left, but he's sweet. Now that me and my sister, Gemma, have both gone, he's like her baby," Harry chuckles fondly, and then continues walking. He turns into a small white door, opening it up to what Louis assumes must be the living room. The kitchen is right next to it, seperated only by a long counter. Sitting on the table is a beer bottle, and the couch has the same black pea coat Harry was wearing the first time Louis met him draped along it's back. There's a small black television, and many pots of spices on the kitchen counter. Harry has a fridge and an oven, and there's lemon cupcakes sitting on the counter next to the spices. They look professional - iced nicer than some in the cafe - but Louis can tell they're homemade.  
"Do you live here alone?" Louis asks, smiling at the flat because he really, really likes it.  
"Yep. Got no friends, remember?" Harry chuckles quietly. Louis bites his lip, wishing he /had/ remembered. "It's alright, I like my own company. C'mon, I'll show you my bedroom, unless you wanna see Niall's old room - and my toilet and shower." He grins and Louis grins back, following Harry into another room.  
Once he's inside, his breath hitches.  
Harry's bedroom is, well, it's /Harry/. The curtains are drawn, leaving the room dark except for the soft glow of the fairy lights Harry has put up all around it. There's five kitten pictures on the wall above his bed, small and edged with tiny picture frames. The queen sized bed is in the middle, with a white and red checkered duvet. There's a lamp on his bedside table but it's not on. That's not what Louis is looking at though. What he's looking at is the left wall, because all along it there are so many flowers - probably more than a hundred. There's about the same amount in each vase, each of a different type. Roses, lilies, violets, daisies, buttercups, and even tall sunflowers in the corner. They're lined up with the biggest vases first, smallest last, and there's five rows. Above the flowers, the wall is covered with Harry's drawings and paintings and sketchings. Squirrels, cats, dogs, flowers, people, plants, places and everything. Right on the edge, there's a sketch of him, Louis, laughing over the counter.  
"It's a bit... weird," Harry mumbled nervously. "The flowers. And I-I drew you. As well."  
Louis looks over at the curly boy, who's nervously fumbling with his own fingers, looking down at his feet which are pointed in at each other.  
"Harry, I love it." It's so uplifting to see the look on Harry's face when Louis speaks those four words.  
"Really?"  
"Yes really."  
~  
It's nine in the evening and Louis's half sitting, half lying on the couch with Harry draped across his body. They're watching re-runs of Sherlock and eating Harry's lemon cupcakes. They have icing sugar on the top and they taste like sunshine and heaven. Louis's eating his third, and he won't stop praising Harry about them.  
"Seriously, come and work at the cafe!"  
"I'm perfectly fine at my sweet shop, Lou."  
"Hazza, c'mon, you can't put these beautiful baking skills to waste!"  
"I'm trying to watch sexual tension between a detective and an army doctor, /fuck off/," Harry chuckles, rolling his eyes and nuzzling his head into Louis's chest. Louis can hardly believe how easily they fit together, Harry lying all on his torso and nicknames like Lou and Hazza easily exchanged. It just feels right, and Louis wonders where on earth Harry has been all his life. Probably helping some old lady cross the road.  
"I think I'm getting crumbs in your curls."  
"Ugh, you are hopeless."  
"I just appreciate your baking skills! You could say thanks."  
"I did the first six times."  
"Oh. Yeah."  
~  
It isn't until Louis is driving home at eleven that he lets himself freak out.  
He just touched a /god/.  
And when he falls into bed, he can't stop repeating the words "I-I drew you" in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so short I'm sorry, I'm still a bit upset about what has happened to my sister.  
> Hope you liked it though, I love you xx

**Author's Note:**

> WAS THAT ALRIGHT  
> Oh my god I'm stressing someone get me a paper bag...  
> I don't know why I am if no one's gonna be reading this, but egh. I HAVE THOUGHTS AND THEN LARRY FEELS AND IT BECOMES THIS MESS OF A SHIT.  
> But anyway if anyone's actually reading this I love you xx :3


End file.
